


And We're Gonna Let it Burn

by jolybird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, drunk mcdonald's au, they're all super wasted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:49:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolybird/pseuds/jolybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bahorel finds some of his friends completely wasted in a McDonald's at four in the morning, as you sometimes do. What he doesn't expect is that the chance meeting is going to change everything. </p><p>;;</p><p>Written for Les Mis rare pair week 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We're Gonna Let it Burn

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this? I've had Bahorel/Combeferre on the "what if" back-burner for a while and, sorry guys, but I really enjoyed writing this. 
> 
> Title is from Ellie Goulding's Burn. Because Bahorel is a trashy pop song kind of guy. And all my other ideas were worse.

The last thing he had wanted to do tonight was drive two of his little sisters to the hospital. But Zoé had called him screaming that Tatienne was having contractions and that her wife, Liliana was still in the States for work. In the end it had been a false alarm and he dropped his sisters back off at home. But by then it was almost dawn and he was hungry. So McDonalds it was. Bahorel sighed from his table and looked across the restaurant. 

And froze.

Combeferre sat at a table nearly directly across from him, Joly and Jehan were next to him, both giggling to themselves over Joly’s phone. Courfeyrac swept over and delivered mcflurries to everyone, Joly looked like he wanted to cry. 

Momentary, he thought about going over to them, after all how many times did you run into your friends at a McDonald's at four in the morning? 

Combeferre put his croque mcdo to his lips, paused, and then put it back down onto the table. He started to straight up giggle because of something Courfeyrac said as he sat down next to him and he rested his head on his shoulder. Bahorel had to look away to calm the awful feeling in his chest. 

He didn't know when it started but over the past couple of weeks Combeferre had been a pain in his ass. He was just being so--- _Combeferre_ \--and in the worst way. He kept pushing his glasses up and knowing way too much about way too much and it was so nerdy and straight up adorable and it was a problem. 

He didn’t want to put a name on it because quite frankly, it was sort of fucking terrifying. Why, out of all the people on this planet, did he have to think the one who once wore not one but two pairs of glasses on his head while he looked for a third pair unbelievably attractive. He knew what this goddamn feeling was and he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to go away or grow. 

He picked a fry up and ate it slowly as he watched his friends drunkenly try to navigate fries and Joly’s chicken Thai salad. When he finished the fries and his dulce de leche frappé he pushed himself up and strolled over to their table. They didn't look up, they were all too engrossed in their mcflurries, except for Combeferre who kept taking the world's smallest bite of his sandwich in between sips. 

“Guys.” Bahorel leaned on the table and Combeferre’s eyes lit up in a way that was honest to god painful. “So--”

“What are you doing here? This is so wonderful.” Jehan smiled as he got up and hugged Bahorel tightly. 

He hugged him back, “so I've been watching you guys for a bit because honestly I couldn't believe how unbelievably wasted you all are.” 

“Oh no” Joly whispered, looking around him guiltily. 

“You’re fine.” Bahorel tapped the table and Combeferre grabbed his hand. “But listen, guys,  _ Courfeyrac _ , listen--let Combeferre eat his cold croque mcdo in peace.”

Courfeyrac frowned as if this was something he couldn’t bear watch him suffer, “Do you want me to ask Elsie if she’ll heat it up for you?” 

“No it’s still good just--”

“Hurry up and eat it so we can go home.” Bahorel interrupted because Combeferre started to slowly lower the sandwich and it was nearly daybreak already.  

Joly frowned extremely profusely, “I don't want to go home?”

“Is that a question?” Bahorel couldn't keep the smile off his face and next to him, Combeferre scoffed. 

“Yes.” Joly glared at him and Bahorel smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. Joly’s frown deepened. 

“You can come back to mine and I’ll drag out the air mattresses for you to crash on.”

“Yes.” Jehan whispered, drawing out the word. 

Joly turned to Combeferre who was picking at the sandwich, “hurry up.” 

Courfeyrac, bless his uncoordinated heart, was already at the door. Bahorel glared at him and he shot down into the seat nearest the door. It rocked and a woman behind the counter had to stifle her giggle at the terrified look on his face. 

They remained at the restaurant for several long moments more, Joly and Jehan held onto each other for moral support as they took turns hurrying Combeferre and then scolding themselves for rushing him. Courfeyrac was talking to the woman behind the counter about neopets. 

Finally, after several lifetimes, Combeferre was done. Jehan and Joly scrambled to their feet and went over to Courfeyrac who immediately put his arms around their shoulders to support himself. Bahorel turned to Combeferre and he slid his hand into his, grabbed his forearm his the other hand and pulled himself up. He stumbled into him and rested against him for a long moment. It involved entirely too much touching and _fuck_. 

Combeferre laughed, his grip on his hand tightening. “Hey.” he said softly and Bahorel spun around sharply. Nope. This was not happening. Combeferre was wasted. He gathered up their trash with his free hand and then pulled Combeferre to the door. Jehan helpfully pointed out the trash can and then pulled the others out of their way so Bahorel could lead. 

Bahorel paused at the doorway, “Joly, how many packages of onion and bacon sauce do you have in your pockets right now?”

“Only half, I took some curry sauce for ‘chetta too.”

Only half could mean he had two or half of the store's supply, “And not once did you think this is an excessive amount of sauce packets?”

“Nope.”

He shrugged, “good enough for me” and lead them out into the streets. 

“So,  _ Bahorel _ ,” Courfeyrac began in a tone that he Did Not like, “Combeferre was saying some pretty interesting things before.” 

Joly laughed, Jehan made a small noise of agreement and Combeferre groaned, “I’m too drunk for this.” 

“Interesting like what? Mummification or the aftermath of the Disneyland Detour?”

“I didn’t hear the aftermath of the--” Jehan began but Courfeyrac cut him off with a sharp shush. 

“Interesting like what he thought of the outfit you wore to my birthday.”

“Your party’s theme was Musical Movies of the 80’s. You’re crazy if you thought I wouldn’t take the opportunity to show up in pink leather pants and a Pink Ladies jacket.” 

Joly pouted, “Grease didn’t come out in the eighties.” 

“Grease two came out in nineteen eighty two.” Combeferre and Jehan chorused. Joly had loudly complained for the entire month leading up to Courfeyrac’s birthday that he wanted to be a T-Bird and Courfeyrac had argued back that it didn’t qualify. Eventually, Musichetta told him that The Little Mermaid came out in eighty nine and the pair of them spent an entire weekend decorating her wheelchair to look like waves and they were the most adorable Ariel and Eric (Bossuet had already claimed a Monty Python movie). When Bahorel came in dressed as a Pink Lady on a technicality, it took the combined effort of both Combeferre and Cosette to keep him off him. The look on his face was worth it. 

Bahorel glanced to Joly and sure enough he was glaring at him. “You know I love you.” Joly smiled but Combeferre frowned so Bahorel asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Why don’t you love me?”

Courfeyrac laughed and threw his head back, “Jesus Christ, you’re embarrassing.” 

“I love you too.” Bahorel told him and Combeferre’s smile honest to god made him weak in the fucking knees. 

Pandemonium erupted when they reached Bahorel’s apartment. Jehan wanted tea, Joly wanted a pillow fight and Courfeyrac kept waggling his eyebrows at Bahorel. Combeferre was halfway between trying to be the adult and falling asleep standing up but at least he was being quiet about it. 

He pulled out the air mattresses and let Combeferre and Joly go about trying to unroll it and figure out how to blow it up as he made Jehan, Combeferre and Joly tea. Courfeyrac sat on the counter next to him, obviously keeping a secret. Bahorel ignored him as obviously as possible. Jehan kept giggling. 

When the tea was done, he led the pair into the living room where, by some minor miracle, Combeferre and Joly had the mattress blown up and piled with blankets. Joly bounced himself off the mattress when he saw his tea and Combeferre took his with a gentle smile. 

“You know you’re super awesome, right?”

“Thanks.” 

Combeferre grabbed his hand and pulled him down onto the mattress next to him, “No--do you  _ know _ how awesome you are?” 

Their three standout friends sat around them like they were watching a movie and Bahorel almost rolled his eyes before deciding that that would probably upset Combeferre. “I have a feeling you’re about to make sure of it.” 

“Damn straight I am.” Combeferre said and all three of their friends laughed like it was the most hysterical thing ever. “You’re going to make the  _ best _ uncle.” 

“Oh actually, fun fact, that’s the reason I’m out this early in the morning. Tatienne had a false alarm.”

Jehan gasped, “It’s going to be any day now! You’re going to bring pictures, right?”

“I thought you didn’t like kids?” Courfeyrac frowned. 

“I don’t like my own kids, other people’s kids are fine.” 

“What the fuck, Prouvaire.” Courfeyrac whispered, “Do you secretly have a family somewhere? 

“Do not be facetious.” 

“Prouvaire, that doesn't answer the question.” 

Combeferre stood abruptly, “I’m going to bed.” Mug in hand, swaying a little as he walked, he went into Bahorel’s bedroom. 

Joly frowned, “What about our sleepover?” 

“We are.” Jehan assured him, reaching out to take his hands. Joly turned around to smile at him. Courfeyrac flopped back and moved Jehan’s abandoned mug out of the way. 

Bahorel sighed, “Are you alright out here?” 

“Yeah.” Jehan yawned and started braiding his hair. They were all in a twisted pile of limbs and Bahorel didn’t feel that safe sitting so close, he was one over dramatic gesture away from being sucked in. 

“Joly’s asleep.” Courfeyrac rescued his abandoned mug as well and then went about tucking him in. 

Combeferre emerged from his room, sans glasses and mug, and frowned, “Aren’t you coming to bed?” Courfeyrac rested his head on Joly’s stomach and started giggling, this, in turn, set Jehan off. Combeferre coolly looked to him before turning his eyes back to Bahorel, “Well, are you?”

“You’re going to  _ die _ in the morning.” Courfeyrac said gleefully.  


Combeferre's expression didn't change. “And you’re going to have a shitty hangover right along with me.” 

“I, uh, don’t know if that’s such a--” Bahorel began, Combeferre was already wearing a pair of his sweatpants and had forgone a shirt entirely. 

“Oh for the love of,” Courfeyrac hissed, twisting around and kicking so that he almost punted Jehan from the mattress, “go cuddle with him before you make him cry.” 

“That’d be really mean,” Joly woke up to agree. 

Bahorel rolled his eyes, “Go the fuck to sleep.” He went into his room, leaving Combeferre to trail after him after he turned the lights off. Courfeyrac and Joly giggled loudly in his wake.  Bahorel changed as Combeferre crawled into bed and when he turned around he saw that he was watching him with a tired smirk. 

“You do know that you’re completely fantastic, right?”

Bahorel rolled his eyes and climbed into bed. Combeferre graciously moved over an inch for him. “Why are you so concerned about me knowing how amazing I am tonight?”

“I don’t say it enough.” Combeferre’s voice was so earnest that Bahorel was left momentarily speechless. The world was cruel as fuck to give him this taste of what he wanted. “For example--your parents had that money set aside for you to move to Paris and become a lawyer and you opened the bakery and risked everything to do what you felt was right.”

“Using my parents money to start the bakery wasn’t brave, it probably was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” 

Combeferre rolled closer to him and threw an arm around his waist, “No, it was so brave. You risked everything and you worked constantly to get it off the ground. Look where you are now.”

“I was just trying to stay afloat, I didn’t really have a choice.” 

“You always have a choice. You had the choice to pretend to not know us tonight. You could have taken your frappe and gone.” 

“How did you know I had a frappe?” 

Combeferre waved it off, “You had the choice and you chose to make sure we left before the morning rush.” 

“I want you to know that you’re looking a bit like Pontmercy right now.” Bahorel said, because of fucking course he had to. 

Combeferre just laughed and pulled him closer. 

“And another thing.” Combeferre said after so long, Bahorel had thought he had fallen asleep, “You’re the hottest person I know.” 

Bahorel had to bite back a comment on how he hung out with Courfeyrac too much and instead said, “Do you mean that in a friend way or no?” Which was probably one of the fucking dumbest things that had ever left his mouth. Combeferre’s eyes went slightly wider and Bahorel was forced to backtrack, “You’re fucking wasted, you don’t have to answer that.” 

“No. I…” Combeferre frowned, confused and tired, “I’m drunk. Ask me again in the morning.” 

“Okay, well, you better get to sleep then.” 

Combeferre smiled and Bahorel had to shut his eyes. 

He opened them to the sun streaming in through his curtains and Combeferre laying on his back next to him, looking about seven different kinds of regretful. “You alright?”

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t fucking worry about it, remember that time I refused to stop playing Mario Kart until I passed out on your floor.” 

“You kept waking up to go around another bend.” Combeferre smiled fondly and Bahorel pushed himself up. 

“Pancakes?” 

“ _ Yes. _ ”

In the other room, Joly sat in the middle of still-asleep Courfeyrac and Jehan, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. 

“You going to be sick or what?” Bahorel asked as soon as he saw the pout on his face. 

“R’s coming to get me and I need to be awake.” 

“I’m sorry.” Combeferre said and, impressively, he actually sounded it. 

“We’re making breakfast so if R doesn’t get here--”

There was a knock on the door and Joly shut his eyes and whined. Combeferre let Grantaire in as Bahorel helped Joly climb off the mattress. 

“What the fuck are you doing.” Courfeyrac demanded from under a pillow. 

“We’re all up so if you want to sleep you’re going to have to go into my room.” 

Courfeyrac pushed himself up, gathered Prouvaire and as many blankets as he could and went into the other room ignoring everyone. 

“So,” Grantaire watched the pair of them go, looking tired himself, “guess last night rocked?”

“Bahorel found us at McDonald's at four.” 

He let out a low whistle, “nice.” 

“So did you McDo each other all night or what?” Joly asked, blearily rubbing his eyes. Grantaire suddenly looked much more elated with being awake but Combeferre marched the both of them to the door. 

“We’ll see you later.”  he said and then shut the door in their laughing faces. 

“Dude,” Bahorel said, going into the kitchen and getting started on pancakes and bacon, “they’re totally going to think we did.” 

“No they won’t because I was drunk and you were sober.” he poured them both orange juice and then sipped his slowly. 

They were quiet as Bahorel made breakfast and Combeferre drunk his orange juice and dealt with his hangover. Then, from out of nowhere, Combeferre said, “No.” 

“No what?” Bahorel asked, flipping a pancake. 

Combeferre stood and went over to him, stopping so that he was only a couple inches away. “No I didn’t mean it in a friendship way.” 

“How the  _ fuck _ do you remember that?” 

“I wasn’t that drunk.” 

“It took you an  _ hour  _ to eat a croque mcdo.” 

Combeferre rolled his eyes, a faint blush on his cheeks, and then he leaned forward and kissed him. 

Bahorel froze, spatula in hand. 

"Does that mean you want to mcdo me all night?" Bahorel asked as Combeferre pulled away, blushing. 

"I--" he began and then sort of shrugged, "maybe, they were teasing me all last night because I couldn't shut up about you. Sorry."

"Don't--I wanna mcdo you too."

Combeferre pinched the bridge of his nose and adjusted his glasses, "Please don't ever say that again."

Bahorel smiled and pulled him closer, "you should probably shut me up then." Combeferre put a hand on the back of his neck and then they were kissing again.

The smoke alarm went off and they both flinched away. “Fuck--” Bahorel turned the burner off with a flick of his wrist and tried to wave some of the smoke away. Jehan emerged from the bedroom looking decidedly pissed. He paused to glare at them, glanced to the stove and then to the ceiling and then picked his phone up and stormed out of the apartment. 

Combeferre leaned away and made to go after him, “he has the right idea, I'm going with him.”

Bahorel picked the charred remains of breakfast up and dumped it into the sink as he reached out and grabbed Combeferre’s wrist. He gave him a little tug and Combeferre allowed himself to be pulled back into his grasp. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ps check out [les mis rare pairs week 2016 ](http://lesmisrarepairs.tumblr.com/)


End file.
